A Turn Of Events
by LauraHannah90
Summary: Edward had planned the perfect proposal... until there is a car accident, and Bella is badly hurt. How do they make it through? All Human. One-Shot.


_Authors Note: This is an All-Human story. If you are familar with my stories, then you'll know this is a first for me! I'm such a canon-lover, but I couldn't deny when inspiration hit and the story wouldn't work if we had a vampire Edward. You don't realise what a big thing this is for me! I'm so proud that I'm venturing out :)_

_Thanks to Alex for Beta'ing. She read through three possible endings with this, before we decided on this one together! She's great._

_Of course, I do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does._

_In Edward's POV:_

* * *

The lifting music played out of the speakers of my beloved Volvo, setting the mood for the evening, a passionate atmosphere in the car. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, nerves setting in for later when I would confess my true feelings to my adored girlfriend, Bella.

"Where are you taking me, Edward?" Bella asked beside me, her long brown hair pooling down over her shoulder, gathering at the top in cute curls that cupped her face, adding a beautiful contraction to her pale complexion.

"It's a surprise, love; you know that," I smiled smugly, stealing a glance at her pale blue dress that hugged her figure flatteringly.

"I don't like surprises. You know that," Bella quoted, her lips pouting out, which I tried to ignore. My hand snaked off the gear stick to rest on her hand that was perched on her thigh.

The darkness outside the windows encircled us in our own little world, a world of happiness and love; the music only emphasising our relationship, its relaxing legato notes, yet complicated rhythm sequence.

We were about fifteen minutes away from the restaurant where I was taking Bella; it was the restaurant where our first date had taken place, where I had ordered lobsters, Bella selecting mushroom pasta because of the price. She ignored the fact my family was rather well off, that I'd insisted she picked anything on the menu; but no, my stubborn Bella had chosen the cheapest thing so as not to cause any bother.

I would always remember and treasure the memory of our first meeting, as I accidentally bumped into her as she rushed down my driveway after bringing some flowers to my sister, Alice, who had broken her leg. I had knocked her over, she had cut her arm, and I'd stanched the bleeding as she sat, awkwardly, on the dining room table.

"Are we there yet?" She asked impatiently, fidgeting with the odd sigh.

"All in good time," I said flashing a crooked smile her way, knowing that would be enough to quieten her for a moment. I would give nothing away tonight.

But as I turned back to face the windscreen, I saw the oncoming car, it's blaring headlights screaming at me to move.

"Edward!" Bella screamed, as the wheels of my car swerved instantly, taking us off the road. But the other car had tried to stop us colliding too; swinging, as if gravitationally attached to us, and following our path off the road.

Slamming my foot on the brakes, I sighed in relief. But the ordeal wasn't over. I'd braked too slowly. The car went straight into the tree in front, the bonnet smashing under the force, my neck and back aching from the impact.

"Edward," Bella groaned, and I tore my eyes away from the destroyed front of my car to the sound of Bella beside me.

The sight was horrific: the other car had crashed against the side of my car, a huge concave dent sticking into Bella's side. The window had smashed, showering Bella in shattered glass that had cut at right side of her body, arms, shoulders; blood oozing from the indentations.

Ignoring the shrieking protest of my aching shoulders, chest and neck, I ripped the seatbelt from its buckle and leaned over to my crying Bella, her eyes full of fear.

"Can you move?" I asked quickly, undoing her seat belt buckle for her, and trying to ease it over her shoulder. But she wouldn't let me; there was no movement in her, as the door of the car was pressed tightly against her.

I gulped back my fear, my worrisome but rational cries for Bella's sake.

"The other driver," She breathed, and I quickly glanced.

His windscreen had smashed, and the spider web cracks were coated with blood where the idiotic, careless driver had hit it; but I didn't care. It was nothing more than he deserved. Even if I did go to his aid, it would do no good. He was dead already.

"It doesn't matter." I dismissed, reaching into my pocket and flinching at the pain. I yanked out my cell phone, throwing it against my ear after dialling 911.

"Edward?" Bella croaked, but I couldn't listen to her. My heart was pounding in my chest, stammering against the chest wall as if trying to escape.

The call was finally answered, and I gushed our whereabouts to the ambulance woman, asking for help, begging for assistance; the burning tears wouldn't stay in my eyes, and they didn't fall with dignity. They crashed around me, scolding my cheeks as she calmed me down, and told me not to move Bella at all, to keep her eyes open, and talking.

"Edward?" Bella croaked again, and I looked down at her rigid face; she was trying to suppress her pain, I could tell. After four years of spending every moment possible with Bella, I knew her. She would always surprise me, but I was growing better at reading her.

"It's okay, love. You have to lie still, but they're coming," I promised.

"What's that?" Bella asked. Her head did not move, but her eyes quickly darted to the floor of the car, near the accelerator. There was the ghost of a smile on her lips, something that I didn't understand until I saw the tiny black box that must have fallen from my pocket in my haste to call for help.

"Nothing, Bella," I said quickly, leaning down to retrieve it, putting it in my pocket. My muscles ached, my shoulders creaking as I forced them to move.

"Tell me?" Bella pleaded her eyes moving to my face lovingly, begging me to tell her so wordlessly and affectively that I could not refuse.

"Tonight was supposed to be so perfect, Bella. I was supposed to get on one knee, ask for your hand in marriage, and you were supposed to say yes. Yet we are here instead; it could get no worse," I admitted, my cheeks damp and burning.

"Ask me now," She asked, her voice barely a whisper as her eyes closed for a moment, opening slowly to meet mine again.

My hand crept over to hers, touching her gently; I didn't want to cause her any pain. She looked so terrified, sitting there, and I was helpless. I was supposed to take care of her, yet I'd caused it all. Everything was my fault.

"Not now, Bella. Another time. When you're safe, and warm, and happy."

"I've never been happier than I am now," She said quietly, and I stared at her incredulously.

"How is that possible?" I asked, wide eyed in disbelief.

"Because," she croaked, gulping back slowly, "my boyfriend is about to propose to me,"

I leant over to her, hovering inches from her face, and lowering my lips to hers; I didn't put any pressure on her, just simple brushing my lips against her soft lips that puckered in response.

"Later, when you're safe. Not now. Now _in case,_" I breathed, flinching at the words; I knew Bella. Always the pessimist when it came to herself, but always so hopeful and believing when it came to others. Too trusting, too loving; that was my Bella.

She sighed slowly, only to quickly inhale when her lungs had reached their lowest capacity, catching her breath. Her quick breaths made me worry, especially as her face scrunched in agony every time.

"Talk to me, Bella." I said, the worry dripping from my voice, "Keep talking. Think about the wedding, the cake. The honeymoon,"

A small chuckle escaped her lips, which were slowly getting paler and paler. The sound was music to my ears, water on a desert, and light to a blind man.

"You haven't even asked me yet," She complained, her eyes never leaving me, although her head did not move a fraction.

"But you can count on it, Bella. Let's think; where shall our house be? We'll need a big one, one for all the kids,"

"Somewhere warm," She smiled, her participation in my game a silent agreement that she'd wait, that she'd humour me. "Away from Forks, where they can grow up in the sun," Her eyes glistened at the thought, the thought of our children running under a cloudless sky in the long green grass.

"How many, Bella?" I asked, my eyes quickly assessing her, "Two? Three?"

"Three," Bella said, her lips curving slightly at the thought. "They'll all look like you, and have your brains, your green eyes."

"And be as kind and loving as their mommy," I added, losing myself momentarily in the dream.

But only for a moment. I could not disappear from this horrific reality; the crushed car, my bleeding Bella and the dead driver. The image was surreal, as I closed my eyes, blinking out the awfulness of what was in front of me.

"We'll have one of those big beds, the ones that have curtains on them," She said in a whisper, her breaths getting slower and deeper, and her eyes drooping.

"Anything you want, sweetheart. Anything at all, but stay with me. Keep talking to me,"

It was my own personal hell; my angelic Bella trapped by something I could not move; I daren't touch her for fear of causing her any extra unnecessary pain. I was helpless, as if watching a television show, the unreal scenario spanning out to reveal something painful. If only I could assure myself she'd be okay.

But my father was a doctor. I'd grown up with Carlisle coming home from work, claiming to have had a bad day, and talking to Esme about the patient that he'd lost because of head trauma. I'd researched medical terms, medical events, and medical history. For several years, I had that as my chosen path until I'd completely redirected to take up my dream as a musician.

I knew there were no promises.

It was then that the taunting song of the sirens echoed around me, enclosing me in my own circle of dread as the lights soon accompanied the sounds; a private disco that would end catastrophically.

"Sir, can you come with me, please?" I was asked, and I spun around to see a paramedic trying to lead me towards the ambulance. Others were surrounding the other driver, although they should be working on Bella. Bella had a chance to be living, they should be getting her out, ridding her of her pain.

"But Bella," I croaked out, trying to shake off his touch, "I need to stay with her,"

"You'll be better out the way so we can take care of her; we know what we're doing," He promised, although I didn't believe him. But I let myself be brainwashed by his words, stumbling over to the awaiting truck, being looked over, and examined for my own injuries. But none of them mattered. Only Bella.

I sat, watching, waiting as they tried to get her out. A fire truck had to come, peeling the destroyed car from my own, and then they took off the door. It was easier than dragging her over the gear stick; something that would have caused a lot of pain.

And so they did, and I heard them talking to her. She told them I was her fiancé, something that made me smile as I looked onwards, my hand in my pocket feeling the large cold box that held the precious ring.

Finally, she was pulled out, and attached to a stretcher. They tied her in, something she didn't like, crying for me because she felt claustrophobic. In the suffocating darkness, and with the weight of the trauma, anyone would feel claustrophobic.

"Can I go with her?" I asked desperately to the paramedic wheeling Bella over. He nodded his eyes full of sympathy as they lifted her up, and I climbed in the back.

I reached over for Bella's hand, gripping as tightly as I could; I could hold on tighter now, now she was safe and they'd secured her. I would hold on tightly and never let go.

Looking into Bella's eyes, I saw the chocolate brown orbs swimming with tears which had sprang from several emotions; worry, fear, but also love and relief.

"I love you," She murmured, and even though her assurances of her love for me were faint, they made my heart feel lighter.

"I love you too, Bella,"

I took the ring from the box that was in my pocket using one hand, gently bringing it to the hand that was held tightly in mine. Her eyes widened as she felt the cool gold around her finger, and then a smile broke out on her face, illuminating all her best features but also drawing emphasis on the cuts and bruises.

Leaning down, I brought my lips to hers again, ignoring the paramedic who was muttering statistics and figures to his partner, writing this and adjusting medications, occasionally prodding Bella.

"And I always will,"

A tear leaked from the corner of Bella's eye, collecting on her cheek that I swiftly wiped away with one quick movement.

"Are you hurting?" I asked, shooting a look at the paramedic who dismissed my glance by turning to write something down.

"Yes," Her voice was no more than a squeak. "But I'm happy too."

"Oh, Bella," I sighed, chuckling a little; always surprising me, always going against all my expectations.

"We're closer to the hospital now, Bella," The paramedic said, hooking the inserted medications onto a portable rack, so when the doors swung open and the bitter night began to erode away at my skin, Bella was abruptly taken from me, my fingers being peeled from hers.

"Mr Cullen, would you like to come this way?"

I watched in horror as they wheeled Bella away from me, my fiancée becoming a distant figure.

"I need to be with her. I promised," I protested, shrugging off his touch with great discomfort to myself.

"You will be no good as long as you are not well yourself, Mr Cullen. Your fiancée is in good hands,"

It was then that I slipped into a mental state that I couldn't quite describe. I walked around, being directed to a room where I was examined, asked questions, prodded, poked, and finally bandaged up.

And then I waited, with only the hope and dream of my fantasy world with Bella, that was filled with three of our children, sunshine, and four poster beds. With my eyes closed, I almost forgot the dingy smell of overly strong disinfectant, and the bright lights.

With my eyes closed, I could almost imagine that nothing had happened at all…

"Mr Cullen,"

I jumped at my name, wincing as my back ached.

"Your fiancée, Bella Swan is being closely monitored. There was some serious bleeding, from the force of the oncoming car but we've managed to get that under control. Your fiancée's condition is very serious, and we are monitoring her to stop her going into shock. But we got to her in time, and her condition seems stable."

I stared at the man holding the clip board with Bella's treatment written down as if she was something out of a text book. Resisting the urge to snap the clip board on his head, I snarled at him.

"Can I see her?" I demanded.

"Of course, Mr Cullen. She is on oxygen at the moment,"

I ignored his expression of fake sympathy; I didn't need it. I needed Bella, to see that she was okay, and to feel her warm hand in mine.

Following him through the corridors of the hospital, I found myself lost, the fact I'd been here many times as a boy when my father had been working was irrelevant now. I was not the son of the highly respected doctor; I was the fiancée of a critically ill patient.

"Bella may not be completely responsive, Mr Cullen."

"Is my father here?" I asked straight, and his forehead creased in confusion. But then I saw the math being done in his head, the association; Mr Cullen and Dr. Cullen… the realisation I was his son. Maybe it'd matter after all.

"He's in with your fiancée, Mr Cullen. As soon as he found out the patients name, he insisted he be the one to care for her,"

I nodded dismissively, and walked into the room, breathless at the sight.

My blond pale father was standing over my Bella, her cuts and bruises finally coming through, an oxygen mask attached to her pale face, and the bedcovers hiding her small frame. The machines beeped viciously at me, and as a sharp inhale took my breath away, Carlisle turned to look at me.

"How is she?"

"Stable," Carlisle said with a sad smile, "She'll be okay, Edward, I'd bet on it."

He moved over to me, my shirt and tie looking so out of place in this environment, my fancy shoes that I'd bought especially.

"I appreciate you being her doctor; I know she's being looked after now," I murmured, pushing past him gently to sit on the chair at Bella's side. I reached out to take her hand, smiling when I saw the ring perched on her finger.

"They wanted to remove her jewellery. I insisted it was kept on her," Carlisle informed me. I nodded at him, my thanks seeping out with everything I had. "I'm proud of you, son,"

"I'm not proud of me. I did this to her." I spat bitterly, "I crashed the car,"

Carlisle didn't say anything, although I saw as he opened his mouth intending to speak before quickly closing it. Glancing from Bella to me, he threw me a sympathetic smile before exiting the room.

"It's okay, Bella, I'm here, love." I breathed, leaning down to brush my lips against the soft silky skin of the back of her hand. "Keep going, Bella, just keep going,"

Her hands twitch in mine, and I eye my beautiful fiancée with lustful eyes. The thing with Bella was that she never gave up. So as she responded to me in the only way possible, I fingered the ring on her hand and kissed it gently, and I thought ahead to time when Bella would be walking down the aisle...

The memory of my proposal slowly makes it ways back into my mind, haunting it and mocking it as I stare at my wonderful fiancée.

Even now, as she walks towards me dressed beautifully in white, her dark brown hair hanging in loose curls around her shoulders, and her chocolate eyes emphasised with a lining of light eye shadow, I cannot believe it. Even after I crashed the car, and caused her severe pain, she still said yes.

The piano plays its own tune, not the normal wedding march; Bella and I are unique, and we don't do things normally. The proposal is a perfect example of that; a car accident and an ambulance later; the ring was on her finger.

As the distance between us closes, I hold my hand out, which she takes. The faint scars of the accident ghost her shoulders, and my eyes trace the reminders, moving up her neck to her pale pink lips to her eyes that glisten with love I do not deserve.

The minister speaks, but the words all blend together, my nerves mix with the excitement that pools in my stomach.

Bella's hands hold onto mine tightly, as if she's transferring strength into me. She lightly shakes her head at me, a knowing look passing across her face; she reads my expression that is a physical representation of my thoughts; pure luck, and happiness, but the loathing that we'd struggled with after the accident.

Out of all the words that are said in the service, only two register in my mind. They are said in the most beautiful of manners, the love shining through in those two syllables, dripping off Bella's tongue.

"I do."

* * *

_I'd really appreciate your thoughts on this, please :)_

_Thanks for reading xx_


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